MY GRANDMOTHER, THE DOG, THE FRENCHMAN, THE HEAT DEATH OF THE UNIVERSE, AND ME
August 26, 2025
When I was sixteen, and my grandmother seventy-six, she caught a bad cold, which turned into pneumonia, and died. At the funeral, which was filled with countless offspring, relatives, and offspring of relatives, my oldest cousin, who was weeping very hard indeed, got up to speak. She spoke about how our grandmother had gotten along...